Now I admit, I was a little off-put when I saw the large number of cats and dogs in the waiting room, but I figured he was just an animal lover, not that he was about to divorce my thing-1-and-thing-2 from the rest of my body with the same clinical precision of a Civil War amputation doctor.
Do you think I chose Northwestern for the academics, the extracurriculars, or the community? No! I chose it for the Evanston Chili’s.
Amidst the chaos, and amidst the accession of new president Kyra Lesmerises, the club’s real seat of power–Flipside Vice President and chief eunuch Benjamin Auby–went largely unnoticed.
Erm… did that just happen? I genuinely can’t believe that just happened. I’ve been watching the Oscars livestream on Internet Explorer, so it’s been buffering a little bit. It’s just really crazy that he would opt to do such a thing live on television, and on the biggest night in Hollywood no less… Millions of Americans were watching. Chris Rock could have been seriously hurt or even killed. Oh my God, we need to do something about this. How am
Well golly-gee-good-morning, world! My name is John J. Johnson, and I have the best life ever!
“We’re always striving for better here,” explains a Tostitos representative. “Everyone’s been telling us for years that we struck gold with those chips, and we figured what people were looking for next was a lime experience really uninterrupted by the strong notes of chip that defined our previous products.”
Everybody’s seen somebody go on a power trip before. Police officers when they pull over people, that kid that was supposed to watch over the class while the teacher went out to go use the bathroom, Joseph Stalin, just to name a few. But never before has a power trip been as dangerous as this one, never before has one rush of authority to somebody’s head been as dangerous as this. For God’s sake, somebody put Ben down, he’s drunk
The other day when I was driving and intently studying the bumper stickers on the car in front of me, I saw my least favorite sticker of all time.
He slurped up a long, skinny semi-gelatinous tube of unsweetened, organic applesauce and felt a head rush like nothing he had ever experienced before.
his little, wet, salamander-colored life-form, by his own existence, took from me my passion. My wife made me get rid of the scuba gear, you see; she didn’t want me to “get some awful fucking decompression sickness and have [my] guts pop out through [my] eye sockets” and leave her with our son, William, all alone. William, more like, Will-I-Ever-Be-Free-Again?